Chocolate Santas
by snoopydoodles17
Summary: {AU, roughly six years from now} Regina and Robin are fighting over the most childish of things: Chocolate Santa Clauses that Robin had put in her stocking for Christmas, along with their daughter's stocking. He wants some, but no one will share with him.


_**Author's Note:**_

_Hi guys! Here's a cute little Christmas fluff story for you. It takes place about six years or so from the events happening right now in OUAT, and Regina and Robin have a daughter named Rose._

_It's kind of one of those cute, dominance FF's that I love to read, so I hope I did it justice!_

**_.._**

**_..._**

Regina has her hands on her hips, shaking her head in an angry little hissy. "Robin, there's only three left." She's telling him, pointing to the chocolate shaped Santa Clauses that she'd gotten in her stocking. They're crunchy on the inside, much like a _Crunch _bar, but also filled with caramel. Making them her all-time favorite thing that she looks forward to at Christmas (at least ever since Robin started buying them for her like a fool on their first Christmas together five years ago).

To her, her argument is invalid, stating that their daughter got some and she did too, but he can't even have the three little ones that are leftover? "That's not right, and you know it. Is that how you want our daughter to learn to share? 'Oh no, Bobby, you aren't allowed to have any. My mommy says it isn't fair to share'." He's mocking. His grin is smug, and if Rose wasn't standing somewhere close (she's not completely sure where, right now), she would slap it right off of him. Maybe slap him hard enough to make him very angry. And possibly hard enough to result in an even _bigger _argument, all over these foil-wrapped, chocolate, _delicious _Santas.

"Robin, you sound like a whiny five year old. Get over it, I'm eating _my _chocolate. If you wanted some, you should've bought them for yourself when you bought some for me." She hisses, whispering the last part so their young girl doesn't get the secret of Santa spoiled at only four years old. As far as she knows, Santa Claus brought her mommy those chocolates.

As she turns to walk away and into the kitchen where the delicious little treats are stowed away, Robin's hand reaches and grabs the loop on her black slacks, grinning as he holds her in place and walks right past her. His smugness is making the whole room vibrate to Regina, rolling her eyes and huffing. He remarks how she should be stronger, how she should really "lay off the chocolate and maybe work out some more".

It just makes her even more mad, mad enough to grab _his _belt loop and yank him to a halt. "Don't you _dare _take another step toward those chocolates. I _will _make your life a living hell."

"There's three! You've eaten like...seven!"

"Actually, five. I've given two to Rose." She counters, trying her luck at walking past him again. But fails. Again.

He stops her this time by simply sticking three fingers into the back hem of her pants, holding her in place yet again. "You've given two to our daughter who was given ten, same as you?"

She nods, rolling her eyes, and answering, "She was sitting on my lap while I was eating them. I couldn't just _not _give her one." and tries moving, but his fingers are still stuck down her pants.

She's growling, now pretty irate that he won't let her move. But he's still smug, calm and collected, and it makes her even more angry. "Then go buy me some." He states, pulling her to his side with her pants and wrapping a strong, hairy arm around her waist and arm.

She struggles for no reason, knowing in the back of her mind that it's hopeless to struggle against his strength. "You know they stop selling them a week before Christmas." And it's the truth. It's this one, _special _store in Storybrooke that makes them. They only have enough supplies, and normally they run out at about that time and never restock until the next Christmas. He's still adamant on getting _her _chocolates that _he _got _her _for _Christmas. "_If you wanted some so badly, you should've bought some extras for yourself when you bought ours." And she's whispering again, making sure their sweet little Rose isn't hearing them speak about her father being "Santa".

"Fine." He finally snips, "But I guess you better be getting _something _to suffice your hormones when you become needy, because I'll be sleeping in the guest bedroom and not coming in there when you're all worked up." He says, but she raises a brow and knows better.

"Right. You'll pass up the chance of sex when _I'm _needy, you know, our best? Right. I'll believe that when I see it, Robin." She tells him, a bit of sarcasm in her voice and her nose is wrinkling up like it does when she teases him.

But his fingers are still in the hem of her pants, stopping her from moving again. "I will. And I'll make you _so_ needy that you'll regret all of this."

"All of this over chocolate Santas? Robin, you're acting like an adolescent." She quips, her eyes rolling again for probably the tenth time during the length of this whole conversation.

His grin is smug again, almost proud like he's won this argument, and she's not sure why he's doing that. "Exactly, it's quite ridiculous. So you should just give me one, and you'll have two others." He states, sliding his hand down inside her pants, gripping at her ass. "And you'll have me when you need me."

Her lip is bit down, but she's not going to let him win. She's not. _No. _"And what are you going to do when you're in the guest bedroom, all alone, with no one to suffice _your _needs?" She coos, her left hand sliding down behind her and against his body, trying to blindly find his bulge.

When he winces, she smiles proudly and he grunts. "I can _suffice _it myself, m'lady."

"Oh can you?" She asks, rubbing him some more to work him up like he was doing to her.

I mean, let's face it. He's got his hand down her pants, gripping at her ass and agonizingly slowly sliding down to where she needs him, to where he's made her warm and needy already, just by talking about sex. He has the capability to do that to her, and he uses it to his best advantage unfortunately. Even when Regina tries to argue to him, if he starts this – she loses.

"I – can." He chokes out, his breath hitching as she squeezes him. He yanks her arm away with his free hand, moving his right hand up and back to the top of her pants to keep her in her place. "Now, this is childish. Let's just go in there, you have one, I have one, and then we split the other in half. Yes?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No, Robin." She says, turning her head to look at him.

"What happened to 'what's mine is yours'?" He asks, becoming whiny again.

She huffs, rolls her eyes and wonders how she married such a childish man, sometimes. He's so mature in other ways such as discipline, but when it comes to what he wants, he becomes either an immature twelve year old boy or an immature five year old. Nonetheless, he's sounding younger than their daughter right now. "What's mine _is _yours, _except _for my chocolate, Robin. You know that."

He's about to whine again, she can feel it radiating off of him. "But-"

"Robin!"

"Regina! You're mean." He whines, crossing his arms and accidentally forgetting to hold onto her pants, and she takes the chance and runs with it. Literally.

She's slipping and sliding on her socks that are running across the tiled floor, almost falling once and having to catch herself on the wall (which, thankfully, was there. Otherwise she would've had the embarrassment of asking Robin to help her up off of the floor). But he's catching up to her quickly, and for being on the complete other side of the house from the kitchen, they're almost there when _he _slips and falls on the tile, going down backwards. "Ah!" He hisses, grabbing his back immediately.

She stops, looks back, and is actually torn between going to the kitchen (which is now only a few steps away...so...close), and helping her fallen husband. Her head is going left to right, kitchen to husband. She wants that damn chocolate, and this is her chance without getting him to stop her. But her goodness steps in, and she turns to the right and chooses to help her husband. She bends over, extends her right hand for him, and he yanks her down when she's in her most vulnerable state. "Robin!" is her next choice of words, making her face red with anger as he's already getting up to her feet.

"You're so easy sometimes, Regina." He's saying as he's already rushing to the kitchen.

But it takes her no time to be up on her feet. He's stopped, and she crashes right into him in the kitchen doorway.

He's looking at something, but she can't tell what he's watching. Or who. Or anything. So she crawls under his arm, moving it and scrunching her nose up again because she's frustrated with his size.

And the thing she sees next, makes her mouth drop in disbelief.

It's their daughter, sitting on the counter top with her hands behind her, leaning against them. Her legs – covered in adorable little peach fuzz (she's blonde, and she gets that color _all _from Robin) – are swinging, alternating from left leg to right leg kicking out, and little red and white foils are on the ground. Her mother's eyes gaze up her body (she's still in her Christmas pajamas, and she's just too darn cute), up to her face that has the remnants of chocolate on it. Chocolate Santas.

"Rose?" Regina says, trying to be calm but her jaw is cocked to the side and her brow is raised, walking into the room and standing about halfway across from her daughter. Robin is watching, almost laughing but biting his lip to stop. "I thought you told Mommy you ate all of your chocolates yesterday?"

Her expression turns into a guilty, adorable, smiling one as she slowly ducks her chin into her collarbone, looking up at her mother with those big blue eyes, "Yes..." She says in a small voice, smaller than normal.

Regina's head turns, her eyes twist up to the ceiling, and her mouth is still open while her tongue is buried into her jaw. "Are these Mommy's chocolates?"

And it sends Robin in a laughing fit, making Regina's blood boil at her insipid husband. But her daughter, this _cute _little girl who has the dimples like her father and the attitude like her mother, is making her heart stay warm. "Yes..." She says in the exact same way as before, the big blues looking up and batting her eyelids.

Regina clears her throat, taking a deep breath, attempting to relax. "And how long have you been eating Mommy's chocolates?"

She shrugs, stepping down to the step-stool that she's dragged out from the utility closet somehow. Her fingers are sticky, living a residue on Regina's granite counters. "I don't know...I guess since I heard Daddy suggest it."

And then her gaze turns to Robin, her jaw is still cocked to the side and her brow raises even farther into her hairline (somehow), "Oh, did you?"

His laughing has stopped, and his smile is as guilty as their daughter's. "I didn't think she would eat all of them."

**..**

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**_Author's Note:_**

_How'd you like it? Let me know in the reviews, please! Thanks!_

_G._


End file.
